But At What Price?
by sheltielover
Summary: Alice Longbottom's and Lily Potter's different points of view of October 31st. Previously called The Could Have Been
1. Alice

**A/N: **As soon as I posted chapter three of Because I Can this just popped into my head. I'm not in love with it, so feel free to flame if you feel the need. I don't even know why I posted it. I'm just bored.

This is assuming the Longbottoms were tortured into insanity after James and Lily died, I don't think there's anything that says they became insane before the Potters were killed, but I'm sorry for going against canon if I am. Again, flame away.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

I knew James and Lily in Hogwarts, but only by name. If we were to pass in the hall we would smile and nod at each other, perhaps even wave if we were having a good day.

Even though they were a few years below me I was not immune to the Marauders' antics, so I knew James. And since I knew James, I knew Lily. Some would look at them, shake their heads and say "opposites attract" but I never agreed with them. Lily and James might have their differences, but they certainly weren't opposites. Opposites were fire and ice, and James and Lily were fire and fire.

I graduated from Hogwarts, married Frank and didn't hear from or about Lily and James for three years, not until they were no longer James and Lily, or Lily and James, but the Potters.

They were members of the Order of the Phoenix and Aurors, along with Frank and I. That's when I began to love James' sense of humor, and come to adore Lily's laughter. They brought light, laughter, and new life to the Order, something it desperately needed.

Below the surface of easy smiles and quick tongues you began to notice James' persistence, and Lily's determination. They treated every mission as if it was their last, every assignment as if it would single handedly bring about the end of Voldemort, and cherished every moment fighting for what they believed in. They were willing to lay their lives on the line for Dumbledore, for the Order, for the cause, for good.

They faced Voldemort with the bravery of wizards twice their age and all three times escaped his clutches.

Then Lily and I both became pregnant. Our joint baby shower was the last time I ever saw her--or James. Soon after the party Dumbledore told us about the prophecy.

Lily and I were separated at once, both protected by spells, charms, and ancient magic. Now, even if Voldemort or a Death Eater found one and killed her, the other would still be safe, one would still have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.

I was terrified. Terrified for me, terrified for Lily, terrified for Frank, terrified for James, terrified for our unborn children. Cruel fate had dealt them an awful hand. One destined to kill or be killed. One destined to be the might-have-been, the could-have-been. One would be exalted and respected. One would go about his business, no one knowing, no one caring he too could have possessed the awful power.

Often during my pregnancy I pondered which fate would be worse. Not being able to choose I hoped for my baby to be born premature, or just a few days late.

A few days were all that separated my Neville from freedom and happiness.

After he was born I wept for the injustice of it all. Why? Why did all this have to happen? Why did the fate of the wizarding world rest on Neville's shoulders? Or even worse, why _not_ Neville?

I heard of Harry's birth a few days later. He almost missed it, could have missed it if he was just born a few hours later. I wondered if Lily was going through the same anguish as I was.

Now all we could do was wait.

And he made his choice.

Now I'm watching Neville peacefully sleep in his crib. Frank is rubbing my back and I'm still trying to digest the news we just received. Lily, James, dead. House destroyed, Voldemort destroyed…for now. Harry left with a scar, just a scar. He has no house, no parents, no relatives, no memories, but he has the scar. The scar that distinguishes him from Neville.

Neville rolls over in his sleep. Supposedly Frank and I are the lucky ones. We kept our child safe, we didn't let him get to Neville. But I know, and Frank knows that it wasn't anything we did that kept Neville safe. If Voldemort had chosen Neville we would have been just as powerless as Lily and James in stopping him.

I gazed at my son, the could-have-been, the might-have-been, the shadow of heroism clinging to him. Yes, we kept him safe.

But at what price?


	2. Lily

**A/N: **After reading it over again a couple times I realized I didn't hate this story. So I decided to do Lily's POV. Hope you like it.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off…"

"No." I said firmly, grabbing his wrist. "I can't leave you. I won't leave you. We're in this together remember?"

He looked at me, fear and pain in his eyes and roughly began to loosen my grip. "Lily, go. Save yourself, save Harry." When I reattached myself to his wrist his temper flashed. "_There is more at stake here than you and me Lily! The future of our world depends on our strength!_" He succeeded in removing my hand again. "Now go! Hurry! Be strong, and remember I love you, I'll always love you." With that he turned to face the door straight-backed and proud.

I stumbled from the room, rushing to Harry's nursery. I could hear the door blast off its hinges. I slammed the door to the nursery closed. I heard a high, bone-chilling cackle, James shouting, cursing him, hexing him. A flash of green light, and then…

No, No, NO! James no! You can't leave me, you promised me we'd be together forever. I need you. I love you. Oh Merlin I love you so much.

Come back come back come back. I love you James! I need you! I cant' go on without you James, this isn't how its supposed to be! There's no point. Kill me now Voldemort!

OhJamesIneedyou.IloveyouJamesIloveyouIIoveyouIloveyouIloveyou…Harry.

The cooing coming from behind me made me spin around. My son, my pride and joy, was sitting in his crib, holding his arms up for me to pick him up, to hold him, to rock him, to love him.

Rage burst inside me for the injustice of it all. I would never grow old with my soul mate. I had always wondered if James would ever lose the boyish grin, if James would ever lose the mischievous glint in his eye. Well he wouldn't now.

I stroked Harry's head murmuring soothing sounds. "Sh darling, it's alright. It's all going to be alright."

Immediately I began to think of things I'd never be able to do. I'd never be able to see Harry's first ride on a broomstick, I wouldn't be there when he got his first wand, I wouldn't read his Hogwarts letter, I couldn't see his first Quidditch match, I wouldn't be able to owl him at school asking suffocating mothering questions like "Have you eaten your vegetables?" or "Has my son found himself a lady friend?" I would never see his first girlfriend, I wouldn't be able to cry at his wedding. I would never go to Diagon Alley with James, see someone we knew and say "Oh, have you met Harry, our son?" They would comment on his eyes, my eyes. I would laugh and say, "Yes, that's about the only thing I gave him. Well that and his brains." James would pretend to be outraged, then quickly quip, "But he got my dashing good looks so no one cares about his brains anyway. Right son?" Then James would ruffle Harry's hair so it looked liked James' in fifth year. Harry would smile sheepishly up at his father and say, "Yes Dad."

I would never get to hear Harry say "Mummy".

I could hear Voldemort coming down the hall. I continued to stroke Harry's head, comforting him. "Harry," I said softly. "Mummy and Daddy have to go away for a while. It's ok though, I'm sure you'll make us proud. Be a good boy, and remember Mummy and Daddy both love you very much. We'll watch over you, and I promise we'll see you again someday. I love you Harry." I leaned down, kissed Harry on his forehead, and turned to face Voldemort.

The door was blasted off its hinges and there he stood, triumphantly, a mad gleam in his eye.

I had faced him three times before, but this was different. This time I knew there was no way out, no way to avoid the inevitable. Why did it have to be Harry? My mind flicked to the Longbottoms, to Alice, to Neville. How I hoped they were safe. Safe like Harry would be soon.

Voldemort's cackling filled the room.

"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I'll do anything—" I pleaded desperately.

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" Voldemort said coldly, pointing his wand directly at my heart.

I'm coming James

"No." I said firmly. "If you want to kill Harry you'll have to kill me too."

Voldemort began to raise his wand. I shot one more glance back at my child. Harry was looking at me, tears in his eyes, wondering why his mummy wouldn't hold him. I wished fervently that he would have a long life, a happy life, a carefree life, but at the same time I knew he wouldn't.

Yes we kept him safe.

But at what price?


End file.
